Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (38 page)

“Genevieve—”

“Have you any idea how I feel? How humiliated and insulted and foolish I feel?”

“I was going to tell you about the marriage myself,” he said, reaching up to massage the sudden tightness in his neck. “I realize that you are probably shocked, and that’s understandable—”

“Shocked?!”
Her voice rose to a near shriek. “I had to hear it from Madame
Braust!
I had to come face to face with that little
peahen
who calls herself your
wife
—”

“Leave Kathleen out of this,” he said coldly. “She is completely innocent.”

“Oh,
certainly
she is. Where did you find her, in those Nevada silver mines you haven’t been able to stay away from? It’s horrible enough that you led me on, allowing me to believe that I would one day become your wife. But did you have to marry someone so utterly lacking in style and social graces? Why, I’ll wager that she can’t even read or write. Is that why you married her, because she hasn’t a thought of her own?”

He almost laughed at that. “No, Kathleen has plenty of thoughts, and they’re all her own. Don’t underestimate her, Genevieve. She’s a match for any woman in San Francisco when it comes to intelligence and character. In fact, she’s more than a match... and perhaps that’s why I married her. I may have believed that I wanted a proper, obedient wife, but when it came down to it, I chose Kathleen.”

“Oh, spare me a speech about the limitless virtues of that little trollop.” Her voice shook with anger. “That’s what she really is, isn’t it? Have you gotten her with child? Was that the reason for this sudden marriage?”

“No.” There was a warning glint in his eyes, but Genevieve was too upset to notice it.

“Do you know why I really think you did this? Can you bear to hear the truth?”

“I assure you, anything you can bear to say, I can bear to hear,” he replied caustically, losing patience.

“I think you were afraid. Afraid to love me, afraid to marry a real woman who would make you a real wife. So instead you went out and picked a drab little miner’s daughter and put a ring on her before you came home, because you knew that if you saw me first, you’d lose your nerve!”

“Genevieve, there is no point in this conversation. You don’t want to hear the truth, and I have better things to do than waste my time listening to your fairy stories.” He came around the desk to face her. “I am sorry if you’ve been hurt, but the fact is, I never asked you to marry me. If you’ll think back to the months I was here before leaving town in October, you’ll remember that I was far from an amorous suitor. You simply chose to ignore the truth.” Jack’s voice softened. “I didn’t plan it this way, Genevieve. If I’d known all along that I was going to marry Kathleen, I would have had a talk with you before I left San Francisco the last time. But fate sped matters along. I know it doesn’t seem possible now, but someday you’ll realize that this is for the best. We weren’t right for each other. Before long, you’ll meet the right man and thank God you didn’t marry me!”

Stepping up to him, Genevieve rested her face against Jack’s shoulder, dropping her eyes so that he couldn’t see the fury that still burned in their depths. “I suppose you’re right, and I should accept the inevitable with good grace. I wish you all the best, Jonathan, and I’m sorry I behaved so rudely.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that, and of course, I feel the same way. I have only fond memories of the times we shared.” He put an arm around her shoulders and escorted her to the door. “Take care of yourself, and give my regards to your family. I trust they’ll understand.”

“I’ll see to it that Papa doesn’t come looking for you with a gun,” she replied archly.

Jack suppressed a sigh of relief as he watched her go. Genevieve turned at the end of the hallway and gave him a brave smile, but inside she was still seething. When she rejoined her mother in their carriage on California Street, her face was contorted with rage.

“If he thinks I am going to give up so easily, he has gravely underestimated me. It isn’t too late to get rid of that mousy little slut! Jonathan Wyatt belongs to
me,
and I intend to have him!”

* * *

Clad in a new, lace-edged nightdress, Katie sat at her rosewood dressing table, brushing her hair by firelight. It was pleasant to sit alone and reflect on the day. Ambrose had reminded her not to expect miracles instantly and it was reassuring advice. Katie was doing what she could to effect change without demanding it from Jack, and that felt good.

There had been no opportunity to ask Ambrose or Conrad about Genevieve, and Katie wasn’t entirely certain that she wanted to. If they answered her questions honestly, it would only make Genevieve—and her relationship with Jack—more real, and therefore more threatening. For the moment she could only trust that it was over—a part of Jack’s past. Besides, she had enough to contend with without manufacturing problems that might not even exist.

The evening had been quite enjoyable, all in all. They had all eaten dinner together, while Jack explained to Conrad that he had spent some time in Columbia during his travels to and from Nevada. That, he said, was where he’d met Katie. She added little, letting him take the lead. Then, when Samuel Clemens was mentioned, both Jack’s brother and his grandfather reacted with surprised delight. Katie was happy to join Jack in relating stories of Sam’s attempts at pocket mining in Jackass Gulch.

After dinner, Katie had played a spirited game of piquet with Conrad, while Ambrose read and dozed and Jack finished proofreading his editorial. When she paused to reflect on the sense of contentment she felt, Katie realized that she already felt part of the family. She was the first to say good night, coming upstairs to indulge in a luxurious bath. Now, as she brushed her damp, silky hair, Katie was proud that she hadn’t lingered downstairs waiting for Jack. If he wanted to be alone with her, it was better that he make the choice of his own free will.

“Can I do that for you?”

Startled, Katie looked around, remembering that the connecting door between their rooms was open. Jack stood in a pool of lamplight that spilled over from his bedroom. He wore a dressing gown of slate-gray silk that exposed a portion of his chest, and his hair was appealingly tousled.

Silently, Katie held out the silver-backed brush. Crossing the room, Jack took it from her and slowly ran it down the length of her hair. From time to time his fingers brushed Katie’s neck as he lifted her hair, and shivers raced down her spine.

For long minutes they said nothing, Jack stroking her hair and Katie reveling in the sensuousness of his touch. Finally the silence became too fraught with intimacy for Jack to bear. His purpose in visiting his wife’s bedroom had been to establish a sense of normalcy in their marriage. He wanted Katie to know that she had a husband, but that did not mean he was willing to open his heart and make a gift of it to her. Jack understood little enough of its workings himself.

What he had in mind for tonight was something much more conventional... and controlled.

“Did you enjoy yourself today? The shopping excursion, I mean?” he asked, his tone pleasantly conversational.

His voice startled Katie, breaking the spell. For a moment she was unable to respond. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

“I meant to tell you how lovely you looked tonight in your new gown, Kathleen. You must feel free to choose as many as you wish, to purchase anything that you like that will make you happy.”

Katie squirmed a little. “That’s very kind of you.” She suppressed the urge to tell him that it would take more than material possessions to make her happy. Instead she said, “I was also grateful today for the opportunity to see more of San Francisco, and I enjoyed Mrs. Menloe’s company. She’s a very impressive woman.”

“I am not surprised that you would think so,” he replied wryly. “Hope is certainly strong, intelligent, and independent, which are qualities that not everyone admires in a woman....”

She dropped her head back to look at him, brow furrowed. “That’s an odd remark. Are you trying to lure me into an argument?”

“No! At least, that was not my intention when I came in here.” Jack laughed softly, shaking his head. “Perhaps it would be better if we didn’t talk for a while. Are you ready to get in bed?”

Suddenly shy, Katie nodded and stood up. Jack took her hand, led her over to the Empire-style bed, and drew back the covers. In spite of her rebelliousness at his attempts to control her behavior outside the bedroom, Katie thrilled as a woman when Jack took charge during these amorous adventures. Now, she could hardly wait to unleash her passion, to have an excuse to open the floodgates of her love.

The fire was nearly out, and it was hard for her to see him. When he slipped off his dressing gown, she felt cheated because she could make out only dimly the chiseled lines of his body. She hadn’t realized how important the element of sight had become in their lovemaking. True, the first time they had been together it had been dark, but that darkness, combined with her sleep state, had dissolved her inhibitions. Now, being deprived of the sight of each other seemed to detract from the intimacy between them.

Jack eased Katie onto the bed and lay down facing her. Without removing her nightdress, he slipped his arms around her and kissed her gently. His hands moved over her body, and his lips were skilled, but there was a deliberation about his lovemaking that made Katie feel awkward. Occasionally, as he nibbled at her neck and cupped her breast through the thin lawn fabric of her nightdress, a spark would flare, but it never ignited into the exquisite rapture she had come to expect.

Pushing up the hem of her nightdress, Jack caressed Katie’s thighs and the curves of her derriere. When he softly probed between her legs, Katie was encouraged to feel herself moisten with a tentative surge of desire. She sighed, expecting him to remove the garment that separated them, but instead Jack pressed her back into the pillows and shifted so that he was above her. Katie was shocked to feel him enter her. Was this all? She wondered. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to meet Jack’s thrusts, unable to get the rhythm just right. She put her arms around him, but his body felt like that of a stranger. After what seemed an eternity, Jack groaned, pushing into her to the hilt, then let his arms bend so that he was lying fully on top of her.

She felt the thud of his heartbeat and tried not to weep. Then, turning her face against his neck, Katie caught the faint scent of lavender on his skin. Genevieve! It was as if a knife had been plunged into her heart, and she held her breath, waiting for the pain to subside.

Jack raised his head and kissed her lightly. “Mmm, that was nice.” He rolled off her then and patted her bare thigh. “At this rate, it shouldn’t take long to enlarge our family. I must admit, I’m looking forward to becoming a father....” He sat up and offered her a benevolent smile. “Well, my dear, I’ll leave you to freshen up,” he said. “We’re both tired, and will undoubtedly sleep better in our own beds.”

“Good night, Jack,” Katie managed to whisper. When he was gone, she lay still, letting the waves of indignation wash over her, her hands balled into fists at her sides. Did he think that she was some sort of brood mare who would docilely live by his rules while he cavorted as he pleased away from home? If so, Jack Wyatt was sadly mistaken! Until he was prepared to make this a real marriage, bound together with love, laughter, honesty, and loyalty, Katie vowed not to submit to his will. This was one filly he would find impossible to tame unless he was willing to domesticate himself first
.

Part Four

Chapter 26

November 10-28, 1864

“Are you certain that Jack won’t object to this?” Conrad asked worriedly as he helped Katie rearrange the parlor. They had just finished grouping comfortable new chairs and a sofa, upholstered in moss-green velvet, around the fireplace.

“Frankly, I don’t mind if he does object!” Laughing, Katie stood back, hands on hips, to survey their work. “Well, I like it! What do you think, Conrad?”

“It’s a big change,” he said slowly, gazing around the parlor. In truth, it didn’t even look like the same room. Jack was due back momentarily from a three-day trip to Sacramento. He had gone to try to lure one of the
Union’s
best reporters over to the
Star.
No sooner had he bade them good-bye than a wagon had arrived to cart away all the old parlor furniture, and that had been just the beginning. The walls had been painted eggshell white, and new draperies of cream silk had been hung to replace the dark blue velvet curtains Jack had purchased. A magnificent Aubusson rug of green, ivory, and deep rose covered the floor, and now all the furniture was coordinated in those colors. The room seemed much brighter. A cozy carved tete-a-tete, where two people could sit facing each other on opposite sides, was bathed in sunlight from the front windows. Nearby reposed an etagere with marble shelves which Katie intended to line with china figurines and knickknacks belonging to Jack and Conrad’s mother. Already she had set bowls of bright chrysanthemums around the parlor.